The Faint Reek of Cat Piss

Just returned from a road trip with my brother Dan who lives in Canada. Some trepidation at spending a long time in a car and a tent with him. It would be the longest time we have ever been alone together in adulthood.

And it went well—an easy, pleasant flow of days from San Francisco to Yosemite and Sequoia National Park. Standing at Glacier Point and looking down into Yosemite Valley is staggering. The mind lurches, just as it did in the Planetarium Show in Golden Gate Park when suddenly the IMAX show begins and the bottom drops out from under your seat and the sky soars overhead.

I may have seen one more aquarium than I would have chosen on my own. And I do wish San Francisco didn’t present so many hills to climb, and maybe I got a crick in my neck from gazing up and up and up at the groves of redwoods. Such stillness, the serenity. Ah, and then coming home.

The cats peed everywhere on the carpets to show their displeasure at being left. When my brother and I came in to the hot, closed up house, my nose curled inside out. My first instinct was to shut the door, walk away, and burn the house down.

So yesterday was spent cleaning carpets, pulling up long strands of braided together wet cat hair off the machine. Yuck.

Today the faint sweet reek of cat piss still lingers.My Internet friend, author Diana Hockey and her husband Andrew, are coming to visit and talk about the craft and marketing of mystery writing. They are coming from Australia on a cross-America binge of sight seeing.

To this house! I do love my animals, but this is hard. Fortunately Diana is a judge of pedigree rats and mice and has lived her life with cats. They toured Australia with a mouse circus. I can’t wait to finally meet her.

One Response to The Faint Reek of Cat Piss

Goodness Mar, what a challenge! Ungrateful little SOBs, messing their own home. Diana sounds like a charmer and perhaps she’ll have some solution. I use activated charcoal in a dish around my place when it needs it. Works well.